


i'll be at your door tonight if you need help

by bitchbabytears



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Bensler, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual!Olivia, Dirty Talk, Dominant!Elliot, E/O, F/M, Handcuffs, Jealousy, Mild Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Partnership, Police, Possessive Behavior, Season/Series 06, Sex, Smut, Submissive!Olivia, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7767703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchbabytears/pseuds/bitchbabytears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 6x8.<br/>Elliot is miserable in his marital turmoil and his partner just looks so fuckable in her pyjamas and messy hair.<br/>Or where they're both kind of drunk and Elliot fucks Olivia nine ways to Sunday.<br/>No previous Bensler sexual history. Mention of previous sexual partners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll be at your door tonight if you need help

**Author's Note:**

> i do not own the rights to any of these characters, all that.  
> this is just my emotional horny drabbles really.  
> title from phillip phillips' song gone, gone, gone.  
> feedback is always greatly appreciated.

He’s flying up stairs, vison blurred, breathing nasally. All Elliot can hear is his heartbeat pounding in his ringing ears. He needs to get to her apartment, he needs so desperately to see her, to hear her voice, to hold her, to touch her. He’s vaguely aware that this impulsivity is not usually his style, that it doesn’t suit him. He doesn’t give a flying fuck.  
He reaches the 8th floor, finally, after what seems like an hour. He knows he was probably only in the stairwell for a minute, maybe two. Elliot wrenches open the door, striding out into the corridor, dimly lit by the elevator sign and the cracks under the doors of strangers’ apartments. He’s running again, the doors blurring past him. 4A, 4B, he needs D, where he knows she will be. It’s late, maybe half eleven, quarter to midnight, he wonders what he will do if she won’t let him in. That’s too awful a thought and he tries in vain to force it out of his mind. It lingers, taunting him, laughing at him.  
Elliot reaches 4D, and the familiarity of the wooden door comforts him, calms him slightly. He stops momentarily to catch his breath. Elliot Stabler is not a man known to be afraid, not ever. But right now, standing panting and shaking outside his partner’s door, he’s fucking terrified. He raises his hand, ready to knock, but just before his knuckles hit the wood, he hesitates. Can he do this? Arrive at Liv’s house, late at night, half way to wasted and miserable? Should he? Screw it, he needs to. He knocks, hard, incessantly.  
He hears footsteps, hers, and then the lock being turned. She opens the door, an irritated look on her face. She sees Elliot, disheveled and smelling like he drank half a bar and the look drops. Now she looks confused and worried and he decides that’s worse than irritated. He doesn’t want her pity, her concern, that’s all he’s been getting from the entire squad for the past week.  
“Elliot, hey.” She speaks, her voice sleepy and calm and sofuckinghot he sees stars. “Whadda you doin’ here?” She’s wearing loose boxer shorts and an old faded men’s sweater. He shudders at the thought that it might have once belonged to a previous suitor of hers. Her reddish chestnut hair is adorably messy, not styled and flopping in her dark eyes. Her hands are bunching the sleeves of her sweater, creating childish sweater paws. Elliot groans, aloud. “El?” she insists.  
“Need you, Liv,” He chokes, “Please?” They both know it’s not a question.  
Olivia’s eyes darken impossibly, pupils blown. She nods, ever so slightly and he takes the opportunity to step forward and pull her tiny body towards his. He captures her mouth with his own, and the kiss is heated, rough and alcohol fuelled. He can taste drink on her tongue, probably that disgusting red wine she favors. In this moment, in her mouth, it tastes like heaven.  
“Make me forget, Liv, please.” He slurs against her mouth, foreheads touching, lips bumping against each other’s. “Need to forget about it all, want you so bad.”  
“You got me, El, you got me.” Maybe it’s the wine, or the kiss or his vulnerability in that moment but Olivia knows there’s no way she could turn him away, no way she’d ever want to.  
He steps inside her apartment, never once breaking the kiss and once they’re far enough in, he slams her back against the inside of the door, crushing her against it. He’s sucking hard at her bottom lip, and she relishes the pain. He’s got one hand at her waist, caressing the skin under her sweater, the other on the door, above her head. She’s using one hand to hold his jaw in place, thumb brushing the day and a half old stubble on his cheek, before he knows she’s done it, the other is undoing his belt and slacks, palming his arousal through his boxers. “Christ, Livia, your hands are fucking freezing.”  
She actually giggles at that, it’s breathy and hoarse all at once and it totally sets him off. “That fucking funny, huh?” He moves his hands, one up her top to roughly play with her nipple and the other to grab her ass. He knows he’s being douchey and possessive and disgusting, without a single right to be. He doesn’t care in the slightest and by her reaction, a gasp and then a low moan, she doesn’t either. She’s worked her hand into his boxers, somehow and is pumping his rock hard length, tortuously slow. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that, Liv.” He manages and then groans, throwing his head back and breaking the kiss as she swipes her thumb over his leaking tip.  
“So stop me.” Her voice barely above a whisper.  
“Fucking hell, Olivia. Don’t you want me to fuck you? I needa fuck you. Ah!” He yells as he feels his balls twinge and yanks her hand out of his boxers before he ruins his pants for the first time in a decade. She grins, trouble written across her face, dirty gleaming in her eyes. His grip is like a vice on her forearm and he brings her hand up to her mouth. “You want it to be like that? Fine, suck.” She looks shocked for a second and he’s almost worried he went too far before she sticks her tongue out and delicately licks his precum of her own thumb. “Fuck.” He curses and she makes a show of wrapping her swollen lips around her thumb. Then she moans, she fucking moans and Elliot thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.  
He retracts his hand from where it was kneading her right breast and moves it back down to her ass. “Jump.” And she does, linking her ankles around his waist. His hands support her weight and she doesn’t ever remember feeling safer. Their lips lock again and he walks blindly toward her bedroom.  
He sets her down on the floor and she’s so aroused it’s dizzying. Elliot circles her, the way a teacher might circle a misbehaving student. “Where’d you get that?” He motions the sweater she’s wearing. She considers lying, blowing him off. Fuck that, he’d know, he’s pretty much the only person that can see straight through her lies.  
“It – It was Brian’s.” She whispers, bashful.  
“Fucking Cassidy?” Elliot asks, incredulously. He’s just discovering he hates that guy, just for having had his filthy hands on his Liv.  
“You wanna hear about how he fucked me? How he did me in the crib, in like four different squad cars, here? He was a damn good lay too. Boy, I could tell you stories, Elliot Stabler.” She’s toying with him and he’s letting himself be toyed with. The image of his partner in bed with Cassidy makes him grit his teeth and he has to stop himself from putting his fist through the wall of Olivia’s bedroom.  
“Shut your mouth, Liv.” He grits, jaw clenched, erection pulsing dully.  
“And if I don’t?” She wonders aloud, tone teasing, sexy.  
“You’ll fucking regret it.” He steps toward her, and pulls her body to his so she can feel the evidence of the impact she’s inflicting on him. He tilts her head to the side, granting himself access to her pale neck. He starts by placing firm open mouthed kisses from just behind her ear to her pulse point. He knows her heart's racing and he knows he’s making it race. He kisses the spot a half dozen times before he lets his teeth graze her pale flesh. He sucks, pulling roughly with his teeth before soothing the spot with his warm tongue. Her whole body tingles, the anticipation is killing her and he fucking well knows it.  
“Please, El… Just…”  
“What, Livi, what do you want?”  
“You damn well know what I want, Stabler.” She hisses.  
“No. But I know that I want this,” he motions to the offending sweater, “off.”  
She turns around so that she’s facing him. His short hair is mussed, his lips swollen and bitten, his belt and fly are undone so she can see his erection straining against the tight black boxers he’s wearing. She fiddles with the hem of the sweater, testing his patience. “Liv.” She looks up, meeting his gaze. “Need you, Liv.”  
She pulls the sweater over her head, and stands not quite knowing what to do with herself. Elliot’s pupils dilate impossibly further at the sight of her bare chest. “C’mere,” he manages and that’s a feat. She walks toward him and he pulls her by the hips to him. His lips find hers and he walks them backward to her bed. He lies her down against the pillows and stands to take of his clothing, which, at this point, is really just being intrusive. He’s down to his boxers in seconds, clothing thrown in a messy pile next to him. He looks at Liv and chokes at the sight. Her eyes are closed, her head tilted back just enough to give him a perfect view of the good half dozen hickeys he created. She has one hand own her own breast and the other has disappeared into her shorts. She’s eliciting small, breathy moans and Elliot is sure he’s never been more turned on in his life.  
“Ah! El… Mm.” She’s so wrapped up in her own little world she’s pretty much totally forgotten about him. He bends down and captures her lips in his and she squeaks as he roughly bites down on her bottom lip.  
“Did I say you could fucking touch yourself?” He snarls, yanking her arm from her shorts. He can see her residue glistening on her finger tips and it’s much too much. Elliot lies down on top of her, forearm bracing his weight on the bed, protecting her from being crushed under him. He slides down the length of the bed, planting kisses all down her taut body. He sucks another hickey onto her left breast, fingers of his left hand rolling her hard right nipple to the point of pain. He continues sliding down, planting kisses over her little tummy until eventually he reaches the waist band of her shorts.  
Her breathing is labored, her body trembles with anticipation and her skin shines in the dimly lit room. “Please, El. Touch me, damnit!” She whines, she’s getting desperate now, she physically needs him to touch her. He knows it too, he can already see the wet patch on the crotch of her shorts. He rakes his calloused fingers over her tummy, the worn pads of his fingers drag on her smooth stomach. He skims over her hipbones, admiring the shadows cast by the angle of the lighting. Finally, after what seems like hours to Olivia, he reaches the waistband of her shorts and slips his fingertips under the soft tartan cotton. She lifts her hips and helps him drag them down her long slender legs. He feels his throbbing cock twinge at the sight of her clean shaven mound.  
He parts her legs and she bends them at the knees, awaiting him to just do something, anything at all. He kisses the back of her knee, then the opposite thigh, going higher and higher up until he’s so painfully close to exactly where she needs him she might have sobbed. “Elliot!” She cries out exasperated. He only chuckles sadistically and presses an open mouthed kiss to her inner thigh. Arousal and longing course through her and she slips her hand back down to her wet folds. She slips two fingers inside herself and cums on the spot with a yelp.  
When the stars behind her eyes clear and she can see again, she catches his eye. Elliot’s jaw is clenched, steely eyes boring into her head. “Did I fucking say you could cum?” He spits. She averts her gaze, pretending to focus on something else. He reaches up and moves her chin so she’s forced to look at him. “Answer me, Olivia.”  
“N-no…”  
“No you won’t answer or no I didn’t say you could cum?” He presses.  
“You didn’t say I could cum…” She whispers hoarsely.  
“You’ve been bad, Liv, know what happens to bad girls like you?” His voice is frighteningly calm and she shudders, goosebumps rising in torrents over her torso and legs.  
“No…” She would almost be scared if she wasn’t with Elliot, but somehow she knows he would never actually hurt her.  
“They get punished, hm.” He’s enjoying himself, the bastard. He stands up and she actually whimpers at the loss of contact. Elliot surveys the room, searching for something in particular. His gaze stops when he sees the comfy chair in the corner of the room, Olivia’s slacks and belt discarded on it. He strides over and picks up the belt, unclipping her NYPD issue handcuffs. He turns back around, swinging the cuffs noisily on his finger. He makes eye contact with Olivia and grins when she visibly gulps. He strides back over to the bed and gently raises Olivia’s arms above her head, pinning her sleek wrists together. He weaves the cuffs through the bars of her bed and thanks a special kind of God that she has a metal bed frame. He clips her right wrist in and brushes his thumb over the back of her hand, a small gesture of reassurance, one that doesn’t go unnoticed. Once her left wrist is secured away from their bodies, he moves back down the bed so that his face is level with hers. She expects him to go further down, to her crotch, she toys with the fantasy that he would just be direct about it, for once. No such luck.  
He runs a hand down her side and pinches the skin above her hipbone, he relishes in her gasp of anticipation. He maneuvers his hand so he can slide his fingers into her, but stubbornly refuses, letting them drag lazily over her folds that are still wet with her secretions. “Fuck, Stabler.” She seems to have regained some of her composure although her eyes are still sparkling and her breathing is erratic.  
“Hm, Livi.” His tone is gentle and she grits her teeth, gentle is the last thing she – Ah! He slams three fingers into her with absolutely no warning. She moans all high pitched and pretty and he begins talking in an incredibly hot, low tone.  
“That’s all you want, isn’t it, Livi? My fingers inside you, on your clit, in your mouth for you to suck.” He’s set up a rhythm, fast and hard, just how she needs it. He continues, “Or do you want something else inside you? Want me to fuck you so you can’t sit down tomorrow? Want me to fuck you so that Novak knows, hell, so that even Cragen will know? What will your precious Casey think, huh?” He’s taunting her but she’s too blissed out to care or to even think about making a jab back. He stops moving his thumb which was previously drumming against her clit and just lets it hold pressure on the sensitive bud. She throws her head back and strains at the cuffs, arches her back high of the mattress and emits a low moan. “Don’t you dare cum, Liv.” His tone is deadly and she uses all her willpower not to. “You haven’t earned another orgasm, yet. Not that you earned the first.”  
She sobs, then, and grovels, “Please, El, please let me cum! Needta cum, please! Feel so good, El, let me cum.” His jaw drops, he didn’t expect her to beg.  
“Fine, pretty baby, you can cum. Only cos you’ve been so good, begging like that.” He relents but never once stops his fingers. She cries out and lets the waves of pleasure take her body hostage, handcuffs clinking like mad against the metal bars as her whole frame spasms. Once she’s completely still, he retracts his fingers and brings them up to her mouth and watches as she sucks herself off them. “Did so good, baby. So good.”  
“Fuck me, now, El?” She asks, hopeful.  
“Wouldn’t you like that, huh?” He grins. “Soon, baby.”  
He moves further down her body, placing kisses over her ribcage, tummy, hips. He dips his head to suck another mark onto her pale skin, her hipbone. He bites down, hard, and she inhales sharply only to moan again when he soothes the throbbing flesh with his tongue. He’s lying between her legs and the thought that he’s never had a better view sweeps through his sexed up mind. He parts her folds using two long index fingers and blows on her opening. She shudders and attempts to grind her hips down. He inches forwards and starts sucking a hickey on her inner thigh and she’s already sodamnclose again. He pulls back, and admires his handy work, the purple red bruise is ridiculously attractive in contrast to her pale thigh. “Please, Elliot. Want you…”  
He blows on her again, so lightly she wonders if it actually happened or not. Then he moves up a little and traces a circle around her clit with the tip of his tongue. She moans, pulling at the cuffs. He repeats the action until she’s on the verge of tears. “El – Christ!” He impales her with his tongue, again and again building up a torturous rhythm. He’s so into it, she thinks it’s the most attractive thing ever. Her mind is foggy, vision blurred with tears of the best kind. Elliot moans, he’s fucking getting off on eating her out alone and the vibration from his throat resonates deep inside her core. “Ah! El! Ohmygod, Elliot. God! Ah, ah, ah!” She’s close, he can tell and decides to be merciful and let nature run its cause, just once. “Ca – can I? El please. Ah God!” She yells when he presses his thumb to her clit.  
“Yeah, baby, cum for me. Let go, Livia.”  
And for the third time in half an hour, she does.  
Once her pulse lowers to less than one thirty a minute and she thinks she can form coherent sentences, she opens her mouth to say something, to thank him, to fill the silence. He puts a finger over her lips, silencing her. He stands up and only then does she realize he never even took off his underwear. She entertains the thought of rejecting sex, maybe she should, but the look on his face when he first knocked on her door makes that thought disappear in an instant. He’s been through so much bullshit, in this last week alone and he needs to feel something other than miserable, even only for one night. She can’t begin to imagine the pain he’s in and if fucking her will numb it for a while, she more than happy to let him.  
“Take ‘em off, El.” She whispers and there’s a certain sanctity to their communication even after what he's just done to her body, after all he’s made her feel.  
“You sure?” He asks, caring. It might physically kill him if she says no but he’s a sex cop and if he can’t ask for something as simple as verbal consent he might as well just eat his gun right then and there. To his utter relief she nods.  
“Yeah, please. Wanna feel you in me. Wanna make you feel good, too.” And she means it. He shoves his tight black boxer briefs down his legs and stands next to the bed. Olivia rakes her eyes down the expanse of his body, admiring his wide chest, the rippling muscles of his abdomen and then his swollen, leaking erection. She shudders, feeling arousal start to sweep over her yet again. Four orgasms in an hour is quite a feat, she decides.  
Elliot climbs back onto the bed, his hips level with hers and she cranes her neck to lock their lips in a fiery kiss. He pulls on her bottom lip with his teeth and teases her slit with his impossibly hard cock. She pulls hard at the handcuffs and silently curses herself for leaving them in plain sight. He circles her clit with his tip and she moans, encouraging him to bury himself deep within her. He gets the message and slides into her slick opening. She gasps, the reality of their situation smacking her across the face with its intensity. “Oh, God, El…”  
Elliot hisses and pulls back slightly only to slam his entire length right back into her. She cries out and the sounds eggs him on. He starts a rhythm, thrusting deep and hard, and tortuously slowly. “So fucking tight, Liv, still. God, you’re so damn tight. Now I know why Novak’s always so pleased to see you, she’s a fucking lucky woman.” His tone is taunting again but his voice is broken and wavering.  
Olivia connects their lips, sucking his tongue into her mouth. “Shut the fuck up about Casey, Elliot, I swear.”  
“Or what? You’ll ask me to stop? Doubt it. Novak could never fuck you like me, not in a million years. She’s all terrible haircuts and whining. Don’t know what you see in her, when you can have me. I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember her damn name. Ahh!”  
She bites down hard on his pulse point and the painful pleasure shoots straight through him to his groin and his hips stutter. He feels her smirk against her neck and he growls and it’s all low and animalistic and hot. He can feel pressure rising in his balls and he knows he’s not going to last long but he’s determined to make her cum first. He reaches his hand down and angles it so that he can beat his thumb against her clit. She cries out but manages to stay together, straining furiously against the cold metal restraints. “What do you need, Liv? You close?”  
She nods, too blissed to speak. “Feel good? Am I making you feel good, huh?” He’s a stupid smug son of a bitch but he’s a damn good fuck. “You wanna cum? That what you want, huh, Liv? Ohhh.” He’s really not going to last long now but he’s so not ready to give up this game. He wants to hear her tell him how good she feels, how it’s all his doing.  
“Yeah, El, s’all you, feel so good, mm, El. M’so close” She sobs, pleasure ricochets through her body. “Make me feel so good, Elliot, Ah! Please, please let me – God!” She’s frantic now, totally desperate and something in her voice tips him over the edge without warning. His dick spasms wildly inside her and sends her flying over the edge, into the vice of her fourth and most powerful orgasm. They’re hips collide again and again, the movement involuntary for them both. He’s afraid he might scream so he dips his head and bites down on her collarbone and she yelps as the last waves of pleasure roll down her body. His hips finally stop quaking and he can’t stop his weight falling onto her, face buried in the side of her neck. After several minutes he eventually regains the strength to push himself up and pull out. She hisses, sensitive after numerous orgasms. He reaches over and swipes the key from her bedside table, and undoes the cuffs. She immediately retracts her wrists and grabs blindly for the comforter that’s been tossed to the opposite side of the bed. Elliot flops down beside his partner who seems tiny in comparison. He covers them both and Olivia snuggles back into his chest, falling asleep instantly. He kisses the top of her head and whispers “Thank you.” Before drifting off to sleep for the first time in a week.


End file.
